


Let Me Count The Ways

by CelesteJEvans



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Declarations Of Love, Drama, First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Merlin Memory Month
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-04-14 21:07:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14144598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelesteJEvans/pseuds/CelesteJEvans
Summary: Arthur just wants to show Merlin how much he loves him. But it always seems to end with Merlin in the stocks. There's got to be a better way.





	Let Me Count The Ways

**Author's Note:**

> This is my last prompt for Merlin Memory Month aka CJ can't write just happy fluff. The prompt was for Path 2: "To love/being loved" and I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> Any and all comments are appreciated.

Merlin scrunched his face as another tomato came flying at his face. It hit his chin and the gooey juice dripped off his skin. He could taste it, he spit out the red liquid. Gross! Even with his eyes closed, he could sense when another fruit came flying at him, always accompanied by the sound of laughter. Sometimes it was children looking for entertainment while their parents toiled away in the marketplace, other times it was adults, seeking a way to sadistically vent their frustrations at the state of the world. Regardless, he was never at a loss for people willing to throw – perfectly good – perishables at him while he was chained at the neck and hands, unable to escape their aim.

“In the stocks again, Merlin?!” Gwen adjusted the laundry basket at her hip and clicked her tongue in disappointment. “This is the third time this week.”

They both flinched when a rather rambunctious child threw an onion at his shins.  

“Oi!” Merlin called as the boy ran away. Still, he laughed and looked up at his friend. “They can’t get enough of me.”

Gwen knelt down to his level, placing the basket on the ground behind her – away from the projectile spray. “Seriously,” she tilted her head sympathetically “it’s like you enjoy being punished.”

“Well it’s hardly my fault!” He squeaked.

“What do you mean?”

“Arthur. He”

“Arthur?” realization struck her expression “Oh, is this about…the incident?”

The young servant rolled his eyes “That doesn’t actually make it sound any better. You can just say it: ‘Arthur said he was in love with me and I said I wasn’t’.”

“Which is ridiculous because we all know you’re madly in love with him, too.”

Merlin gaped in offense but there was amused acceptance behind his eyes. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Merlin,” Gwen always had such a caring, motherly tone to her voice. “why didn’t you just tell him you loved him back?”

He ducked his head, eyes scanning the ground for a way out of this topic. “Because he doesn’t love me” he absorbed the shock of receiving another tomato to the face and spit out the juice and seeds. “he just loves the idea of being in love.”

Gwen placed a gentle hand on his back. He wouldn’t understand yet. “You said you were here because of Arthur. What happened?”

“Well,” Merlin looked up in defense but instead stopped to consider his words. “it wasn’t Arthur’s fault entirely. Uther ordered me in here.”

“For three days?!”

“ _Arthur_ ” the word had a slightly bitter taste in his mouth – like eating a cranberry (which he’d been forced to do yesterday when a handful were thrown at his face). “was caught in the kitchens trying to steal a cooked chicken. He ended up tripping and knocking over an entire afternoon’s preparation for the Feast of Beltane. The king said it was my duty to get Arthur whatever he needed so he should never have been down there in the first place.”

“And for that you were put in the stocks for three days.” Gwen shook her head. Even for Uther, that might have been an extreme punishment for such a minor thing.

“Oh no, that was Monday.” Merlin gave her a pointed look when her eyes bulged wide. “Tuesday, Arthur gave me flowers.”

“Well that’s very sweet.”

“I had a reaction to the pollen.”

Her hand flew to her mouth, half hiding a smile, half genuinely horrified. “Oh no.”

“I sneezed all through the council meeting.” Gwen jumped back as a head of lettuce slightly missed its target but Merlin just took it all in. “Uther was none too pleased.”

The maid gulped, almost afraid to ask. “And today?”

There was no mistaking the blush that crept upon the boy’s face. “Arthurwrotemeasong.” He mumbled.

If Gwen had been drinking she would have spat in his face. “He did what?!”

“Arthur. Wrote. Me. A song.” He gritted his teeth and tried to stomach the embarrassment of his own memories.

“And how exactly did that end with you in the stocks?”

Merlin rolled his eyes. “You know that Lord Easton is in town for the festival?” Gwen nodded. “I was lent out to attend him for the week, and Arthur thought he would be in council with the King into the late hours. So he stood at the door to the Lord’s chambers. And he sang. Badly.” Thankfully he turned when Gwen burst into laughter or he would have been pelted in the face with a head of cabbage. And yet her laughter continued long after the vegetable had rolled away. “I don’t see how it can be that funny!”

The maid tried, in vain, to stifle her laughter and spoke through near tears. “You aren’t picturing stoic Arthur in his full armor singing a soppy love ballad to a door.”

Even Merlin could admit, the image was funny. Some day. “Well he wasn’t singing too long. Lord Easton opened the door and was absolutely appalled at the Prince’s behavior. I tried to step in and make up an excuse – which was reported to Uther this morning.” He looked out to the wavering crowd. “Hence why I’m out here once again to greet my adoring fans.”

Laughter now subdued to an understanding chuckle, Gwen rubbed her friend’s back and shook her head. “Oh Merlin, you two are hopeless.”

“How is this my fault?” He gestured to the chains weighing him down.

“Well it is” her eyes grew wide “not to say that you’re to blame” she fumbled “it’s just that…” she took a breath “he’s doing it for you.”

The boy scrutinized her words quickly “What Uther?”

“No” she smiled, gently guiding him through “Arthur.” He scoffed but she reminded him. “You know him. He’s a knight; they speak with actions not words. He’s also rubbish at showing affection.” Merlin couldn’t disagree. “This is his way of…well, _wooing_ you.”

Merlin instinctively backed away from the conversation – though he was, well and truly, trapped. “Wooing me?”

“Can’t you see it? He tried to make you supper”

“That destroyed half the kitchen”

“He brought you flowers”

“That I’m allergic to”

“He even sang you a song”

“Badly. Very badly.”

“Regardless of quality.” She held his shoulder to stop his mouth. “He’s trying to show that he cares.”

Merlin tried to shrug her off. “Well he’s got a piss-poor way of showing it.”

“Merlin!” Oh, he knew that voice. His mother had that voice. Arthur had that voice. _Listen to me, now_. But because it was Gwen, her words were accompanied by a gentle, authoritative voice. “I don’t understand why you refuse to acknowledge Arthur’s feelings – or your own – but you have only yourself to blame for putting yourself in this situation.” Before he could protest, she continued, gathering her belongings and stood above him. “If you would just admit what we all know to be true, Arthur would stop wooing you and you wouldn’t end up in the stocks.” Before she left, she picked up the discarded cabbage and added “For this, at least.” before throwing it – rather roughly – at his head.

He called out in protest but Gwen had already scurried away and gotten lost in the crowd. He shook his head, a fond smile gracing his lips. He ducked when another tomato came flying into his hair, his thoughts racing with all that she had said.

Perhaps Arthur was genuine in his intentions but so was Merlin. Arthur didn’t know Merlin let alone love him. Maybe all his secrets could be revealed but what would the Future King think of marrying a servant who had magic and was destined to be by his side – as foretold by a grumpy old dragon who lived in the basement of their castle hold on- Marriage? Before now, the idea of marrying Arthur had never entered his mind, or if it did, it was not something he entertained except alone at night with his loneliest thoughts. Could he marry Arthur? Did he even want to? Perhaps one – or both – of their feelings was simply a passing fancy. Tomorrow, the coiling in his stomach would pass, his clammy hands would regain their grip, and he would stop daydreaming about golden hair and an endearing smile. Or picturing their first kiss. Or admiring his well-trained physique. Or having to hide his smile when Arthur does something heroic and kind. Or blushing whenever he says something so sweet in such a nonchalant way that Merlin can’t believe Arthur wasn’t simply a god brought down to Earth to torment his sense.

Oh.

So, Merlin was in love with Arthur.

But that didn’t mean Arthur loved him. There was that pesky detail about the outlaw of magic – of which he was born to be the greatest wielder. And besides all that, he was a servant of the lowliest birth. He wasn’t even from Camelot. What would Uther say? What would Uther _do_?

No, Merlin decided, this was a passing fancy that would dissipate soon enough. There was no need for any talk of marriage or magic if there was no love to sustain it.

An apple flew through the air and brushed past his left ear by a breath. He lifted his head and came face to face with his daily tormentor, that classic endearing smile on his face; this time accompanied by apologetic eyes. Instantly, the air left the courtyard. Merlin had to look away to keep his blush from giving away his happiness just at seeing his Prince.

“Hello.” Arthur’s voice was light, almost playful as he walked towards Merlin. “Your punishment is through.”

“For now.” He mumbled, raising his arms so the restraints could be lifted. “Thank you.”

The Prince chuckled, trying his best to lighten the mood. “I’m glad you’re still speaking to me.”

“You are my Prince.” Merlin couldn’t focus, his mind spinning from inhaling the scent of sweat and pine. Arthur had been in the woods today.

“That’s never stopped you from mouthing off before.”

Merlin bowed his head. He just wanted to go. If it was sass, the Prince wanted… “Forgive me, sire.”

“Merlin”

“Forgive me. But it is you who should ask for my forgiveness.” Then it was sass the Prince would get.

Arthur stared incredulously. “Me?”

“This is all your fault!” He accused, perhaps a little too loudly. “I’ve been put in the stocks three days in a row, I’ve been pelted with fruit and vegetables for hours, I tore my favourite scarf, my bruises have bruises, I haven’t got any work done all week”

“Keep your voice down. Please.” Arthur stepped in closer and all sanity flew with the breeze. _Keep it together, Merlin._ He took a slow, deep breath.

_Make him understand._ “It never occurred to you to ask me how I felt.”

Arthur blinked, such genuine confusion spread across his face. “I assumed you felt the same.”

“Well I…” He did. He didn’t. He couldn’t. If he could see reason then Merlin wouldn’t have to figure out _why_ he couldn’t. “Arthur, you are the prince. There is always someone watching.”

“Merlin” He met Arthur’s eyes, rubbing the back of his neck. “I am sorry.” The warlock shrugged but couldn’t find the right words. He was sore and tired, he wasn’t sure how he felt, let alone how to express them. “ _Can_ you forgive me?”

“Of course I can.” That was never up for debate. He could forgive Arthur almost anything – if he asked.

The Prince straightened his shoulder’s in excitement. He looked around to ensure those listening in – because of course they were, the Crown Prince was talking to a servant – didn’t hear anything noteworthy for his father to learn of “Enough to say you… agree with my earlier…statement?”

Merlin rolled his eyes but agreed to Arthur’s silent plea to use code words. After all, if anyone knew what they were talking about, it’d be his head in the stocks. Again.

“Not quite that far.” Still, he conceded. “But I can understand your position.”

Arthur nodded in understanding. But then he was silent. All Merlin could do was rub his neck until he spoke again, his voice no longer casually superior, but genuinely humble. It sent Merlin’s head buzzing all over again. “I was wrong to…pressure you into agreeing. I should have seen your way of thinking. I won’t try to convince you again.” Arthur turned and walked away; slow, even steps of a man struggling to hide defeat. Merlin couldn’t bear it. He scrunched his face and mustered up the last of his courage.

“Hey.” Several people turned at his call but only Arthur mattered. “I didn’t say I couldn’t be swayed.” His mischievous grin broke through with bright enthusiasm. “Don’t stop now.”

Arthur’s smile could stop a war with it’s honest excitement. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Merlin watched his Prince disappear into the crowd, a strange version of hope seeping from his body. He ran a hand over his face to hide his curious smile and stopped short. All colour drained from his face as he hastily wiped his mouth and chin of tomato and lettuce and even one squash remnant (the people were cruel on a Wednesday afternoon). He’d just spoken to the Crown Prince with produce dripping off his chin. How mortifying. But Arthur had said nothing – nor did he appear to care. Could it mean…

Well, he would just have to find out tomorrow.

* * *

 

Like clockwork, Gwen passed through the marketplace the next day and found her friend tied to the stocks, looking more worse for wear. She tucked her curly hair behind her ear – though it didn’t stay for long – and tilted her head sympathetically. “And what happened today?” She couldn’t keep the amusement out of her voice.

Merlin looked up and narrowed his eyes. “You know, don’t you?”

She bit her lips to keep from laughing but she tried so hard to remain partial. “I think everyone in court knows.”

“I didn’t know he’d written me a poem!” He winced when a tomato came flying at his head. “I just grabbed a scroll off his desk and gave it to him.”

“He addressed the council with ‘Your love is like a winter rose’.”

“Which is when I realized the mistake.”

“He kept reading!”

“Now that is not my fault.” He squeaked. “How was I to know that Arthur doesn’t pay attention to what he’s saying.” He rolled his eyes at her raised eyebrow. “Alright, I _do_ know that Arthur doesn’t think before he speaks but this was the Address to the Council Elders about land division. It was important.”

“He talked about your ‘sparkling diamond eyes’.” Bless Gwen for not breaking as she mocked every word. She contained her snort-like laughter – the one only Merlin, and maybe her brother, had heard – with pure strength of will.

All Merlin could do was glare. “Really?”

“And your ‘child-like wonder’.”

“He never said my name.” He grumbled. That seemed to pause the flow of laughter.

With only a light smile left in her voice, she spoke gently. “Merlin, everyone knows he was talking about you. Except, perhaps, Uther.”

“Thank goodness for that.” He absorbed the impact of the celery stalk. Why were they throwing celery? That was just cruel.

She gestured to the vegetables lying at his feet. “Why would you rather be here than with Arthur?”

“What if it was you? Could you marry a prince? Always knowing that your relationship was unequal?”

“No prince has asked me.” She muttered to herself, “no one has asked me.” He opened his mouth to protest but she held up her hand. “The point is, this isn’t about me. This is about you and _your_ feelings. Why don’t you put logic and reason aside, and listen to your heart?”

His heart? His heart wanted to beat out of his chest whenever Arthur was around. His arms wanted to throw caution to the wind. His voice wanted to shout his love from the roof tops. His mind, however, dragged him back to Earth where he was a servant with a secret and his love was a Prince. Why did it have to be the prince? Because he was charming and kind, and good with animals and children, and his smile could end wars. He’d had this fight in his head many times.

“Because he’s Arthur and I’m…me.”

She sank into her hip. “Very observant. But I’m serious. Promise me you’ll think about it?”

All he ever did was think about it. “I promise.” He sighed.

She couldn’t help it, she ruffled his hair but smoothed it down because she’s Gwen, and went back to her work. “There’s always tomorrow.”

Merlin didn’t see the lettuce flying through the air until it hit him square in the face. He groaned but accepted his punishment. It would be over soon enough.

A few hours later, the boy was free of his restraints and making a beeline for his home when someone came jogging up behind him. “Merlin!” He turned to find Arthur at his side, panting slightly. He’d run a long way. “I was hoping to catch you before your release.”

“Enjoy seeing me in irons, do you?” He knew how it sounded before it left his lips but he kept walking.

Arthur tried to smile and laugh it off but a small blush crept up. “I thought we’d discuss that later in our courtship.”

“Courtship?” Merlin stopped in his tracks, his eyes wide in panic. “Who said anything about courtship?”

Arthur followed his movement, a stoic seriousness filling his body. “I didn’t declare my love for you because I thought it’d be a fun joke. I intend to court you – if you’ll say yes – and maybe even marry you one day.”

“Marriage?!” His head was spinning. This was too much. He had to get out.

The prince placed his hands around Merlin’s shoulder’s too keep him steady. “Merlin, are you feeling alright?”

“Oi, Merlin. Spent another day among the pigs, I see.” Their conversation was interrupted by a man, weary from a day of overworking, approaching from across the courtyard. It was a new knight to Camelot, still in training, but one Merlin had befriended from the first day. He was one of the nice ones.

“Hello Alderan.” Merlin welcomed the distraction a little too eagerly.

“That’s Sir Alderan to you.” He punched his friend’s shoulder. “If this one will ever knight me.”

Arthur stiffened. That should have been the first warning. “That was rather rude.”

“Arthur” Merlin’s protests were cut off by an indignant knight who just wanted to keep the joke going.

“No, it’s alright, Merlin.” He stepped into Arthur’s circle, a challenging smirk painting his face. “I understand; you can’t fight your own battles.”

Arthur narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t in on the joke. That should have been the second warning. Merlin tried to intervene again. “Alderan, I wouldn’t”

Everything stopped when Arthur threw the first punch. Merlin jumped out of the line of fire but it was too late, the knight hit the ground but bounced right back. “Arthur! Arthur” Alderan threw the second punch, hitting Arthur across the throat, winding him. “Alderan!” A crowd had formed, reacting in unison now as a few more blows were exchanged. The knights were matched in strength but Arthur’s speed was unequal and soon enough, he had Alderan in a tight grip around his throat. The knight fell to his knees, oxygen slowly leaving his body. Merlin had to step in. “Arthur, stop.” He pulled the Prince by his shoulders but he wouldn’t budge. With a burst of energy, he grabbed his waist and twisted hard. It worked. He wrenched the two apart and ended up the last man standing. He stared down at Arthur, a dangerous warning in his eyes. “He’s my friend.” He hadn’t realized he was furious until Arthur stared back at him in shock and embarrassment, his skin flushed but his body coiled his shame.

The boy turned to Alderan to extend his hand but he was suddenly pulled back by two guards. Each gripped his arms behind him as he struggled for freedom. They were dragging him away as the two knights clambered to their feet.

Alderan was the first to rise, his face already puffing and black. “No stop, he didn’t do anything.” His cries fell on deaf ears until Arthur reached his full, commanding height.

“Stop.” The men ceased pulling but only tightened their grip on Merlin’s wrists. He hissed in pain, his poor skin would never recover from this week of torture.

“I’m sorry, sire.” The left guard spoke. “We have orders from the King to arrest him if he causes another public disturbance.”

Alderan scoffed “Another”

“This was not his fault.” Arthur assured. “Release him at once.”

“I’m sorry, sire.” The right one wouldn’t meet anyone’s eyes. “We have our orders.”

And then Merlin was dragged to the cells, kicking and screaming most of the way. At some point, he just gave up and started to walk. At least he wouldn’t have to clean the stables tonight. Maybe he could get a decent night’s rest. Maybe he wouldn’t be put in the stocks tomorrow. There was always hope.

He was guided into an empty cell and the door gently closed behind him. He had a sneaking suspicion that the guards were on his side. Yes, they had a job to do, but they didn’t have to be cruel about it.

The cells were not meant to be a comforting place but since he’d come to Camelot, he could almost call it home. He rubbed his wrists to alleviate some of the pain but it didn’t help. Some of the flesh had scrapped through several layers and was a gnashed combination of reds and purples. He would have scars for at least a few months after this week.

He flopped against a stone wall and hugged his knees, absorbing his last few days. It had been a week since Arthur called him to his chambers and very stoically announced that he was in love with Merlin; had been for many months now. _I’ve finally worked up the courage to tell you_. He said. _Don’t you have something you’d like to say to me_?

He’d had so many things he wanted to say. He’d been dreaming – literally – of the day Arthur would say that he loved him, too. But he hadn’t said ‘I love you, too.’ He’d said ‘I love you. Now tell me you love me.’ At least that’s how it sounded to him. Instead of hearing Arthur’s words, he’d heard everything he didn’t say. So, he’d said ‘no’.

Merlin wanted to be romanced. He hadn’t realised it but he did. _Don’t be such a girl, Merlin_. He could hear Arthur mocking him in his head. Arthur really didn’t know how to express his emotions.

_He’s a knight. He uses his actions._ Gwen was right. Twenty years of his father telling him to never trust his emotions – of knights showing nothing but tough love – made Arthur a smart ruler but horrible at being sincere when it really mattered.

_He tried to steal food as a sign of affection_. Who does that? Although it was very amusing to hear how the Prince had tripped over his own feet trying to back out of the situation. He really was hopeless. Merlin huffed out a smile ducking his head behind his knees.

_But those damned flowers_. His face had turned an awful shade of red and he hadn’t stopped sneezing for hours afterwards. He sniffled at the memory. _The song, the poem_. They were just grand gestures. There was nothing behind them but wounded pride. _That was why he punched Alderan._ He decided. The knight insulted him and Merlin had simply gotten caught in the crossfire. _Why did Arthur always have to communicate with his fists?_

“Merlin?” He stumbled out of his thoughts when a voice called out his name from the other side of his prison bars.

He didn’t stand for Arthur. Perhaps he was pouting but he had a right to. “Here to get me into more trouble?”

Arthur ran his hands over the bars to avoid making eye contact. “I came to apologize. Again. I keep messing things up.”

“Yes, you do”

“I just don’t know how to be around you.” He confessed.

Merlin dropped his legs. He was definitely pouting now. “You be yourself.”

The Prince stopped his pace, still too afraid to meet his eyes. “Well that clearly hasn’t been working.”

He’d never seen Arthur like this, uncertain. Presumably it happened – he was human after all and not a descended god as Merlin once thought – but seeing it was something rare. It was enough to make him lose his resolve and throw caution to the wind. But there was so much he still couldn’t accept. _He’s the prince. He’s the Crown Prince._ Over and over it ran through his head – along with all the implications of being in love with someone he wasn’t allowed to love. Why didn’t Arthur understand that? He had to make him see.

Merlin rose to his feet and held the same bars, keeping a space for physical contact but never touching. If he felt the smooth, encompassing hands, it would all be for not. “I may not know much about love, but I know that being yourself shouldn’t end up with the other person imprisoned.”

They locked eyes when Arthur perked up. “You said ‘love’.” Merlin wouldn’t last long if he kept looking at him like that; such sad, dwindling hope.

“You said you love me, Arthur.” His words were gentle but sure. “That is still true, isn’t it?”

“What do you think I’ve been trying to do for the past week?”

“Punish me for not returning your feelings?” It slipped out before he could stop himself. How he wished he had the power to turn back time. Arthur didn’t hide his hurt well.

“Do you really believe that?”

“No.” Without a doubt. His shoulders slumped. “I just don’t know what to say, Arthur.”

“Say you love me back.” The Prince pleaded.

“And then what?”

“What do you mean?”

“Have you actually considered what would happen if I returned your affections?”

He smiled. He knew this answer. “I already told you we’d”

“You think it’s as simple as saying ‘we can get married’?” He pushed away from the cell door. “Arthur, you are the Crown Prince of Camelot. I am just a servant.”

“I don’t care.” Oh, he really believed it.

“Other’s do.”

Arthur resumed his pacing, throwing his hands in the air. “Sod what other’s think.”

“Arthur, your father would have me in irons for being present during a brawl in the marketplace, I don’t think he’d be too keen on me sitting with him at supper.”

At least he had the sense to blush in embarrassment. He ducked his head, rocking onto his heels, and flexing his knuckles. “Alderan is all right, by the way.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” And he was – Alderan was his friend – but there were other things to discuss. “Why did you attack him? He could have been seriously injured.”

“He” Arthur struggled to find the words. He tasted them on his tongue but they wouldn’t leave his lips. It seemed so silly now.

“He?”

“He was rude to you!”

Merlin growled in frustration. “He was joking!”

“I didn’t realize that until after I’d dealt the first blow.” Yelling at Arthur was only making him more indignant. Scolding him probably wouldn’t do much better.

“But your reaction was to _hit him_? Arthur that’s irrational. Even for you.”

“You’re right.” The world stopped. He was dreaming now. He had to be.

“What?”

Amidst Merlin incredulous confusion, Arthur was still, his eyes cast solely on the ground which kept him tethered to this world. “I haven’t been thinking clearly. I spent so long denying my feelings, I never thought about what would happen after I actually said them out loud.” His voice was no longer that of a Prince. He sounded so…sad. “And now? Now I can’t focus on anything else.”

Merlin immediately softened. How could he hate him – how could he yell at him – when all he wanted to do was comfort him? “I’ve noticed.” He chuckled, leaning in to lightly tease him. “You stole a chicken.”

Arthur huffed. Thank goodness for small victories. “I did, didn’t I?” He didn’t smile, though; lost in thought.

“And that song?”

“I never expected you to say ‘no’.”

Oh.

If Merlin was being perfectly honest, he also hadn’t expected to turn down any affection from his favourite Prince. But he’d said it. And he couldn’t take it back. Even if a part of him wanted to. “Arthur”

“The reason I came to find you today was to give you this.” Arthur reached behind his back and produced a folded piece of red fabric. It was soft and thin from years of wear but there was a brand new silk stitch marring the edge.

Merlin held the material with stunned reverence. “My scarf?” His favourite scarf. He’d left it at home Tuesday morning after his first day in the stocks. It had caught in the lock and ripped beyond wear. Until now.

“You said it was torn so I had it fixed for you.”

All air left the cells. All he could breathe was Arthur. “You remembered that?”

The Prince shrugged like it was nothing. Merlin held the scarf to his nose and inhaled the memories he’d cultivated. It smelt of soap and flowers. It’d been cleaned. Like new.

“I always remember what you say.”

“You just never listen.” He didn’t mean to say it. He could admit that. “I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re right.” Arthur conceded, offering a shy smile.

Merlin stared passed his feet, still thumbing his gift absent-mindedly. When Arthur came down here, he had a plan: make the Prince see reason. Now, maybe it was Merlin who was coming to his senses. He hadn’t expected a gift – especially not one so…sweet. It was what he wanted, right? To know for certain what Arthur felt? But to look at him now, all Merlin saw was weariness; a man tired of fighting.

Well, he wasn’t giving up yet.

“Why do you love me?” The question startled Arthur out of his stasis.

“What?”

“Indulge me, Arthur.” Merlin stepped up to the bars; no escape now. “Why do you think you love me?”

The Prince straightened his shoulders. “I don’t think. I know.” He was so sure of his answer but it wasn’t enough.

“Arthur”

“Okay, okay.” The Prince breathed deeply, gripping the bars for support. He wasn’t sure where to start – what words would make sense. So he just started talking. The first thought that came to his mind. “Well, you make me smile.” He corrected. “Whenever you trip over air or talk about nonsense for hours.”

Merlin gapped in mock offense. “I do not talk for hours”

“ _Hours_ , Merlin.” He leaned into a conspiratorial whisper. “And I could listen for days. Because every once in a while, you say something that makes me see the world differently. You’ve made me a better man for it.”

It was all that would tumble from his mouth. “Oh.” A breathy mess of realization. Despite it, Arthur continued.

“Also, I think you are… quite attractive. In a gangly way.”

“ _Gangly_?!” The servant squeaked.

“You asked.”

“I did.”

There was still a little quick wit left in them both. But after a shared smile, Arthur grew sober once again.

“You’re also kind, and considerate. I trust your counsel more than anyone else. I can’t imagine starting my day without you.” His words winded Merlin like a blow to the stomach. He still wasn’t convinced this wasn’t all a dream – Arthur said everything he wanted to hear. Except for one thing. He looked away; unable to face his fears just yet.

“You don’t know everything about me.” He croaked. He could tell him right now. He was already in jail. The worst that could happen is that he would die sooner.

Arthur answered like he knew all of Merlin’s thoughts. “I don’t think I need to.” He decided. “I think our secrets may eventually come out but I love the person you are – not the facts about you.”

Well, he certainly had a lot to consider now. He tried to file away his thoughts like the men did at the end of a tedious meeting. Why did Arthur have to be so perfect? His mind was swimming, the buzzing in his ears deafening the outside world. It was safe to assume that he’d failed in convincing himself that loving Arthur was a bad idea. How could he not? “Thank you.” He cleared his throat. “For your honesty.” _Get a grip, Merlin. You may be in love but that is no reason to act like a twitter-patted hand maid._

“This is the most honest I think I’ve ever been.” Arthur picked a loose thread off Merlin’s tunic to distract himself, and he thought he would hyperventilate. Both of them. The ghost of a touch was all they could get.

“I appreciate it.” Merlin’s whisper seemed to knock Arthur out of his trance and he backed away from the cage, afraid to be bit by the creature within.

He kept his head down as he walked away. “My father says he’ll let you go at sunrise. I’ll make sure you have a blanket and some food.”

Merlin followed him across the bars as Arthur made his way towards the exit. He knew that tone. He’d heard it before and it scared him to think about. He was saying goodbye. But he couldn’t. What? No, Arthur couldn’t be walking away. Not after he’d just declared his love; talked about courtship and marriage. All the while Merlin had…denied it. He couldn’t give up now. “Arthur?” The prince stopped but didn’t turn all the way back. “You haven’t stopped trying to convince me, have you?”

Arthur opened his mouth but reconsidered his words. He bowed his head over his shoulder. “I respect your decision, Merlin. Sleep well.”

And then he was left alone. The sound of footsteps echoed in the distance and the room felt small with one less body. Merlin let the cold, iron bars guide him to the floor, his legs too weak to carry the weight of Arthur’s words. _Why didn’t I just say yes?_ He held his head in his hands, gripping the scarf with ghostly white knuckles. _What if I’m too late?_ He should have known that all of Arthur’s wild gestures were a sign of something real. But he’d been afraid; plain and simple. And now he my never have another chance to tell him.

His head shot up.

_Knights use actions, not words._

* * *

 

The morning light brought a warm ring around the main square; like a guiding light leading Merlin to the centre. A freshly cleaned scarf hung around his neck and he carried a long, stringed instrument in his shaking hands. With each step he took towards the circle, his heart beat faster. Who had thought this would be a good idea? _Oh yeah, me._

True to his word, a wool blanket and a plate of hot food was brought down to the cells, courtesy of Prince Arthur, but Merlin didn’t sleep and he barely ate. He had a crazy idea and could only hope it would pay off.

As he stepped up onto the ledge of the fountain, a crowd began to show interest. He took his final position and it seemed as though the whole world stopped to see what he would do next. Merlin had to admit, he was a little curious himself.

He held the lute in position a strummed the first notes.

“Here goes nothing.” He muttered.

From among the crowd, a man came barreling forward until he was at the very front. “Merlin?” Arthur. Now he could begin.

He closed his eyes as he began to sing.

 

“ _I sing of a love that is endless and true_

_Time cannot change nor distance break_

_King of all kings_

_I worship your name_

_I stand by your side until day becomes night_

_I long for your voice when you aren't near me_

_Though I love you greatly, I fear the worst_

_King of all kings_

_I worship your name_

_I stand by your side until day becomes night_

_Love never had, is worse than love lost_

_So I sing of a love that is endless and true_

_I pray that you hear me and say you do too.”_

 

The last notes rang out and the crowd was stunned into silence. Whether in disgust or awe, he couldn’t be sure but Merlin finally opened his eyes and looked straight at Arthur.

The Prince stared, open mouthed and wide eyed. All the colour had left his body for calmer pastures but there was no mistaking the look of disbelief. A few cheers dotted the crowd and Arthur shook away his confusion in favour of pulling Merlin by the hand.

“Merin get down from there. Do you want to get arrested?” The servant eagerly took his hand at the threat of another night in jail. “Come this way.”

Arthur led them away from the noise, around the corner and into a nook where they could have some privacy to talk and

Merlin kissed him. Well, sort of. He’d missed slightly and his lips scrunched up, pressing his teeth against Arthur’s upper lip. Their bottom lips were pressing so roughly together he thought they would bleed. He pursed his lips to release but the damage had already been done. All in.

“I love you too.” He breathed.

Still dazed, Arthur shook his head. “What?”

Merlin chuckled. He was possibly more endearing when he had no idea what was going on. “I took a page out of your book and sang a song.”

“I noticed.” Arthur narrowed his eyes, grabbing the instrument from his hands and placing it on the ground beside them. “Where did you get the lute?”

Merlin bit his lip; it kind of tasted like Arthur’s breakfast. “I’ll have to return it before anyone in court notices it’s missing.”

It was Arthur’s turn to laugh. “Merlin”

“Sometimes grand gestures don’t involve a lot of forethought.”

“So I’ve come to realize.”

He hadn’t known they were embracing until Arthur squeezed his forearms. His smile was infectious. He couldn’t help but tease. His heart felt light for the first time in, what felt like, years. “Are you going to acknowledge that I said ‘I love you, too’?”

Arthur pulled him a little closer. “I thought I’d make you wait a while. It’s only fair.” He was preparing for another kiss – and Merlin was more than eager for a do-over – but then he stopped. “Do you mean it?”

He could only nod and grin until he regained the power of speech from the butterflies dancing around his stomach. “I love you, Arthur. I was too scared of the consequences. But forget them. I’d rather love you than never know what could be.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” Once again, they leaned in; breath heavy and lips parted.

The sound of clanking armour interrupted their movement and two guards rounded the corner. “Speaking of consequences.” Merlin pulled away from Arthur, practically skipping out of their corner. “I think they’ve caught up with me.” And then the serving boy was running down the street, followed closely by his entourage of captors.

Laughing, Arthur called after them. “I’ll speak with my father.”

Merlin waved but kept running. “Please.”

* * *

 

“Two days?!”

Merlin paced his old, familiar cell, while Arthur tried to calm his frustration from the other side of the bars.

“Trust me, that was lenient. I’ve never seen his face turn that shade of red before.” He smirked. “He must really hate you.”

The servant turned on his heel and pounced on Arthur with a panic and ferocity the prince had never seen before. “You didn’t…tell him, did you?”

“I’m not stupid, Merlin. I thought it best to wait for him to calm down before telling him.”

That seemed to relaxed the caged animal who continued his pacing as they spoke. “We’re going to be waiting a long time.”

Arthur shrugged. The grin hadn’t left his face since this morning. “I don’t mind.”

“Now what do we do?”

“Well, my father agreed to let you stay in my employ despite your ‘obvious mental deficiency’ if I agreed to supervise your retraining and discipline.”

This time, Merlin’s movements were calculated and smooth. Slow. Teasing. Slithering towards Arthur. “I assume that has some dual meaning to you.” A mischievous smirk marked his features meaning he already knew the answer and he was completely on board.

“Only if you’re willing.” Arthur conceded, pulling Merlin’s shirt so they were both against the bars.

A breath away from another awkward, barred kiss, Merlin spoke. “One condition.”

“Name it.”

“We need to find a better way of showing affection. Every day together can’t end with me in prison.”

The Prince laughed at his love as he leaned in close. “I think we can work on that.”

**Author's Note:**

> The "song" that Merlin sings is from my brain, but it's based on Medieval poetry/song structure if that at all helps.


End file.
